Another Life
by Animorphgirl
Summary: Starts about twenty years before the beginning of the movies, but AU. Amanda's adopted at age five by John and Jill Kramer after an exterminator finds her locked up in the room under the stairs. Chapter four is now up and Saw IV compatible!
1. Chapter 1

Amanda sat motionless locked in the small room under the basement stairs. She had been crying, and yelling, for the past twenty minutes without success. She looked around now, but all she could see besides darkness was the thin line of light creeping out from under the door. She guessed that it was better than if there was no light at all, but it did not make her surroundings any more visible. She knew the room well enough by light, having been locked inside before, and she even knew how to navigate in the dark. She still hated it.

Amanda reached in front of her, standing cautiously, and tried to force the doorknob open with her tiny, five year old hands. The knob wouldn't budge, and her sweaty hands made it harder to hold onto. She tried kicking the door, but it remained shut. Perhaps if she was as strong as her father, the one who kept locking her in there, she would be able to tear the door down with her fists and her body. He had been able to slam his fist through walls, after all.

Her mother said that Amanda was lucky that her father _only_ locked her up when he was angry, or when she had misbehaved. She said that her father had a nasty temper and he could hurt her if she got in his way when he was angry. Locking her up was his way of keeping himself from _really_ hurting her.

Amanda still hated it. The room was so small, and dark, and she just _knew_ that there were mice running around next to her. She always cried and begged him to let her go as he dragged her to this room. Even if she tried to run, or hide, he always found her. She would pound on the door until her small hands hurt, scream until her voice was hoarse and raspy, and cry under she thought she had no tears left, but it never did any good. He'd always ignore her and leave her there for what felt like eternity. Sometimes, it would be nighttime, or even the next day, when he unlocked the door.

He always dragged her out the way he dragged her in, as though afraid that Amanda would protest and want to stay in the room. Recently, she began to wonder what would happen if she bit his hand, hard, when it reached in to grab her. The thrill of it sometimes seemed to offset whatever punishment he could give her, but she felt guilty thinking about it. He _always_ made her feel guilty, and stupid, and Amanda had no choice but to believe him.

She plopped down on the floor, trying not to care as the cement hit her butt. She winced and let out a low, pitiful noise as this occurred, but stopped after a minute. No one was there to hear her, or care.

Amanda's father had told her the room's dimensions, once, but to Amanda the numbers were meaningless. What she knew was that she could walk two feet in any direction before hitting her head. Towards the left side, the ceiling sloped downwards until Amanda could not touch the bottom even if she was lying on the floor with her arms outstretched. When she did that, only once, her mother yelled at her because she would get dirt all over herself, and her father would threaten to send her back down there.

One of the hardest parts about being in the room was not being able to see anything. Amanda could easily bump her head against the wooden wall because she had taken too many steps, or too large of a step. This happened almost every time she was in the room. She also knew that monsters lurked within the walls, and would appear out of thin air whenever her father locked her up. They would make horrible noises, wailing and hissing, and even try to chase her. She knew there were ghosts in the room as well. Amanda wished she had her stuffed rabbit with her, Snowflake, because the rabbit protected her against monsters at night and could do the same thing here. But she never had time to get her rabbit, and she knew that even if she did have time, her father would rip the bunny out of her hands.

_Maybe the monsters would eat Snowflake,_ she thought now, trying to reassure herself. _She's happy now, on my bed. She wouldn't want to be here._

Fighting monsters at night was a hard job, and maybe it wasn't fair to extend the rabbit's workload into the day.

Suddenly, Amanda heard footsteps, but they didn't sound like her father's. They were light but intense, almost like the sneakers Amanda wore. They didn't make the THUMP thump THUMP noise her father's bare feet made.

Her heart raced. She got up, hit her head on the ceiling, and began to run at the door, pounding on it as she fell.

"Lemme out!" she screamed.

Maybe it was Liz. Her older sister was eight, and sometimes disobeyed their parents, but not as much as Amanda. Or at least, she wasn't punished as much as Amanda.

"Liz, lemme out!" she yelled again, head hurting. She put her right hand to her forehead and found wet stuff. Blood.

Amanda could hear the button pop out of the socket, unlocking the door. Seconds later, the door opened and she tried to run out, but fell face forward into the figure that had freed her. She heard a stifled giggle, and then a hand reached down to help her up. Once on her feet, Amanda looked at the person who had freed her, thinking that maybe it had been her mother.

A young woman with wavy blonde hair smiled nervously back at her. She wore black jeans and a big white shirt that had a word written at the top Amanda couldn't read.

"Are you okay, honey?" the woman asked, now crouching before her and briefly touching her arms, shoulders, legs, and stomach. "Anything hurt?"

Amanda shook her head, suddenly shy. She tried to wipe the blood off her forehead.

"Oooh, let me see that." The hand pushed Amanda's aside, but it was more gentle than her mother's hands were. Much more than her father's. "Let's wash that off, and get you a bandaid," the woman soothed, reaching for Amanda's blood free hand. "What were you doing in there, silly goose?"

"Locked in," Amanda replied, taking the hand eagerly. "You saved me."

The woman laughed again as they started to climb the stairs. "I suppose so, but how did you get locked in? Were you playing hide and go seek with your sister?"

Amanda shook her head. "_He_ did it," she explained, pointing to the hunched over figure in the corner of the room.

"Damn right I did," he snarled, standing ferociously. Amanda hid behind the woman. "Who in hell said _you_ could let her out?"

He was drunk, again. Amanda saw the woman shake slightly, but she didn't cower before him as Amanda had always done.

"I was spraying for termites and heard the little girl pounding on the door," the woman replied, raising her voice with each word. "You _knew_ that she was there?"

"'Course I knew, bitch, I put 'er there," he replied, advancing.

The woman stepped back, nearly tripping over Amanda. The small girl yelped loudly without intending to.

"Sorry, honey," the woman said, turning to the girl briefly. "Are you all right?" With Amanda's nod, the woman turned her attention back to the man. "You should be ashamed of yourself, locking her up in that filthy closet! I ought to call the police on you." She paused. "They might even take this sweet girl away from you."

"Eh take her and stop whining, bitch," the man replied, slumping back onto his saggy chair. "She's a worthless brat and a drain on her family."

The woman paused and Amanda's heart sunk. She knew it had been too good to be true.

"Why on earth would you lock up your own daughter?" she asked, reaching down to pick up Amanda.

"None of your business," growled the man, reaching to get out of his seat. "If you don't want her, get your termite stuff and get your fat ass out of here. If you do want her, get your stuff and take her with you."

"Snowflake!" Amanda whispered. "I need my bunny."

The woman nodded and addressed another issue. "Can I take her clothing?"

The man snorted. "Bitch, take anything in that room of hers. But if Liz wants anything, give it to her or you'll be sorry."

The woman turned back to Amanda, who was sitting uncomfortably in her arms. "Do you want to go with me?" she asked.

"Yes," Amanda whispered.

"Show me where your room is."

"Upstairs on the right," Amanda replied, not daring to raise her voice to normal level.

The woman nodded and started walking randomly until she found the stairs. From there, it was easy to find Amanda's room. She put Amanda down on the floor.

"I want you to get cleaned up while I pack your things," the woman instructed, kneeling down to Amanda's level. "Can you do that, sweetie?"

Amanda nodded and left the room. The woman looked around the room and sighed.

The room was not much larger than the closet the woman had found the child in. There was a bed that took up most of the room, and it was unsteady. Inches from the bed was a closet, where she found Amanda's clothes, toys, and a very small bag resembling a suitcase or a duffle bag. Since Amanda's closet didn't have many clothes in it, though (only two drabby dresses and one skirt with a tear on it), it seemed rather appropriate. On the right side of the closet were things that couldn't be hung up, like underwear, pants, socks, shirts, and nightgowns. There were about three pairs of each. She managed to put everything into the bag by the time Amanda came back.

"I need Snowflake," Amanda whispered.

"Who's she, honey?" the woman asked, looking around. Perhaps it was some sort of security blanket?

"My bunny." Amanda pointed to the white lump on her bed that was missing an eye and had a badly mended ear. There were specks of brown all over it, and she had a feeling it was from dirt. It was half as big as the girl.

She wouldn't have guessed what it was and didn't want to touch the rabbit with a pole, let alone her bare hands, but it seemed important to the little girl. She picked up the rabbit, gingerly, and handed it to Amanda, who hugged it to her chest.

"Do you need anything that's on your bed?" she asked, looking dubious. The covers were torn and looked like they hadn't been washed in months. They smelled terrible. The pillows weren't much better.

Fortunately, Amanda shook her head. "We can go," she said, tugging at the woman's pants.

"Okay. You hold this—" She handed the suitcase to Amanda, "—and I'll get my supplies from downstairs. Wait here and do not move an inch until I get back."

Amanda nodded. "I don't want to say goodbye to _him_," she said, making a face.

"You don't have to." The woman sighed. "Just wait here, sweetheart."

"Okay." Amanda plopped onto her bed for what she knew would be the last time ever.

This didn't make her sad.

A/N: Five reviews needed before I write the next chapter. First person who can correctly identify the woman gets the chapter dedicated to them. Hint: It's someone we've seen before in the movies.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter's dedicated to xxbutterflypunkbellexx, who correctly guessed that the woman was Jill. Good job! I may or may not have future chapter dedications...we will see.

Moments later, the woman returned with her supplies. Amanda jumped down from the bed, smiling widely.

"You ready?" the woman asked. At the small girl's nod, she extended her free hand, offering it to Amanda, who took it. "Let's go."

The woman looked worried as they left the house. Amanda thought that she was probably scared that _he_ would stop her, and even hurt her.

_Maybe she thinks he'll lock her up with me,_ Amanda thought.

That wouldn't be so horrible, though. She hated being alone in the closet, but if the nice woman was there, there would be someone to talk to, someone to protect her against the monsters.

Of course, the woman probably wouldn't fit into the closet. Not standing, anyway.

They walked across the yard and the woman helped Amanda into her car. It was huge, more like a van, and had the same writing on it that was on her shirt. Maybe it was the name of the company where the woman worked. It was large, in bright, bold black lettering, but there was a picture of an insect at the end of the word in red. It looked like a mixture between an ant and a cockroach.

The woman sat Amanda in the back seat, placed her suitcase on the floor, and fastened Amanda's seatbelt around her. It was tight, almost choking, but the little girl didn't dare to complain. The woman then set Snowflake on top of Amanda's lap.

The woman seemed to sense Amanda's unease. "This car doesn't have kid seatbelts, but I only use this one for work. The other one's for families, so it should be fine."

Amanda nodded and the woman shut the door and climbed into the front seat. She pulled out her keys, turned on the car, and began to drive away.

Amanda hadn't been in many cars before, and she didn't like the experience. She felt sick halfway through, when they got onto the highway, she kept willing herself not to throw up. By the time they got to the woman's house, Amanda had never felt so ill in her life.

"You okay?" the woman asked, opening the door on Amanda's side.

"I feel sick," the girl whispered, barely moving her lips. If she didn't move them, maybe she wouldn't throw up.

The woman's tone became sympathetic. "You should have said something. I would have opened your window for you. Poor baby." She unbuckled Amanda's seatbelt, which made her feel a little better. "See if you can last until we get into the house, okay, honey? I think you'll be fine after you sit down and have some juice." She paused. "And maybe chocolate chip cookies?"

Amanda smiled weakly as the woman picked up her, the suitcase, and the rabbit. She had placed the termite stuff at the back of her car, and it looked like it was going to stay there.

"Your job supplies…" Amanda whispered as she felt the ground on her feet once again.

"Yeah, I just leave those in the car, honey. They're for work," the woman explained, laughing. "We don't have bug problems at home, believe me."

Amanda began to feel better as they towards the garage. The woman punched in a code and the door opened. Amanda stared at it for a few seconds, awestruck.

"You've never seen this before?" the woman asked. "It's pretty cool, huh?"

Amanda just nodded. The woman started to walk into the "room" and Amanda tentatively followed her. She opened another door and Amanda found herself in the hallway of a house.

"Jill, honey, is that you?" came a voice.

"It's me, John. Just got in," the woman, who Amanda now knew as Jill, called. "Where are you?"

"Living room," the voice called back. "Reading."

Jill rolled her eyes at Amanda and put the suitcase on the floor. She handed Amanda Snowflake, who took it gratefully.

"Whatcha reading?" she called, now opening the refrigerator and taking out some juice.

"Some book Paul told me about. Says his wife liked it," the voice replied. "You going to come in and give me a kiss?"

"In a minute, John," Jill laughed. "What's the book called?"

"It's an old one. You might like it," John answered. "I'm leaving it on the table for you."

Jill, who had just finished pouring the juice into a glass and was now rummaging through the drawers for the cookies she had bought earlier in the week, just nodded. "I'll be in soon."

"You getting a snack?"

A tall blonde man had just entered the room. On impulse, Amanda tried to duck out of his view.

"Who's this?" he asked curiously.

His tone wasn't exactly nasty, but it was hardly encouraging. Amanda felt immediately scared of the man, even though she knew that there was no reason to fear him. She hugged Jill's knee, the closest body part she could reach, and crept behind her, starting to shake.

Jill turned around and lifted Amanda into her arms. "Shh, it's okay," she soothed. "Nobody's going to hurt you."

That helped a little, but it was still a very scared Amanda who found herself looking straight into the unknown man's eyes. She tried not to start crying, her sickness immediately forgotten.

John looked at his wife quizzically. "What, exactly, did you do?"

Jill spoke tentatively, but firmly. "She was locked up in an old room at the house I was working at. When I asked her father about it, he started threatening us and told me that I could have her." She paused, as though realizing how ridiculous the story sounded. "I thought she couldn't be worse off here."

John sighed. "He _said_ you could have her?"

"Yes." Jill began to smooth Amanda's hair, hoping to calm the frightened child.

"What, did you sign any papers or anything? Do you have her medical records? Where was the mother during all of this?" He sighed and began to pace. "This isn't just some stray dog you found at the shelter, Jill!"

Jill exhaled. "If the parents want her, we'll take this to court. I go back to the house next week to make sure the termites aren't back. I'll get the documents then."

"Don't you think you could get charged with kidnapping?" John growled, running a hand through his hair. "What does the kid think?" He turned to Amanda. "What's your name?"

"Amanda," she whispered, not looking at him.

His voice softened. "I'm not going to hurt you, Amanda. I just need to get a few things straight." He turned to Jill. "I thought I was used to your craziness, but now this! For starters, where is she going to sleep?"

"In the guestroom," Jill replied, speaking as though it were the obvious solution. "Could you be a little nicer to her? She's terrified of you."

John sighed, but complied. "Amanda, did you want to go with her?"

"I'm not a kidnapper, John!" she snapped.

"Let the kid answer," John sighed.

"Yes."

"Amanda, did your parents hurt you?" asked Jill, stroking her arms.

"_He_ did," she replied, speaking a little louder. "Not her."

"'He' being your father?"

"Yes." She paused, then spoke quickly before she lost her nerve. "I don't want to go back. He hurts me."

"We'll try not to let that happen, Amanda," John replied, softening. He put a hand over her hair. "We just want to make sure they don't try and get _us_ arrested."

Jill hugged Amanda tightly. "We were going to have some juice and cookies. Do you want some?"

Her tone was still cold. Apparently John was still in trouble.

"Okay," he replied, visibly slumping. "Do we have any chocolate chip ones left?"

"We have a few, but you ate most of them yesterday." Jill let a smile slip. "Get your own juice and see if there's anything in the drawers you want. _Amanda's_ getting the cookies."

With that, she grabbed the food, turned away, walking towards the table, and sat down with Amanda in her lap. Amanda tried not to laugh at the expression on John's face. She had never before seen an adult pout.

Amanda looked at the cookies hungrily. She rarely got to eat desserts at home, but maybe this would be different. She didn't recognize the juice, so she took a small sip. It turned out to be grape juice. She then took a small bite from one of the chocolate chip cookies. It tasted better than anything else she had ever eaten.

Jill talked to her as she ate, moving her hair out of her face, or rubbing her back. She asked Amanda how old she was (five), if she had started school yet (no), had she ever been to the doctor's for shots (no), and if her father had ever treated Liz or her mother cruelly (no). The questions seemed to go on for ages, long past Amanda had finished the juice and cookies. Neither John nor Jill seemed entirely satisfied with the responses she gave. They told her that they knew she wasn't lying, but there was a lot about her history that they didn't know. Amanda had no idea what they meant by that until John tried to explain.

"For starters, when you go to school you need to have received certain shots. Some of these should have been given to you when you were really little. Since you don't know if you had them, and you don't remember ever being at a doctor's, this makes things kind of complicated," he explained, reaching across the table to hold her hand.

"That doesn't mean that we're going to send you back to live with your parents," Jill added quickly. "It just means that when I go back, I need to get more information from them."

"And since your father has hurt you," John continued, "it's very possible that he neglected you in other ways too, so he might not have this information or remember it."

"A parent who locks up a child doesn't deserve to be a parent," Jill stated, hugging Amanda tightly.

Amanda nestled cautiously against Jill's shoulder. "I want to stay with you," she said, still speaking quietly but her voice had gone up a notch about a whisper.

"We want that too, honey," Jill soothed, kissing Amanda on the forehead.

The little girl closed her eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. There had been too much excitement that day and besides, this was when she normally took a nap. She could hear John and Jill talking amongst themselves, and then John noticed her nodding off.

"You should put her to bed," he noted, laughing. "She looks ready to collapse."

Amanda heard Jill laugh, too.

"Okay, sweetheart. Time for a nap." She stood up, turning Amanda so that she was facing her chest. The movement drew her out of her doze and she opened her eyes, looking around confused.

"Where are you going to put her?" John asked.

"Living room. John, get me that blanket from the hallway closet, okay? The blue one," Jill instructed, patting Amanda on the back.

John said something Amanda couldn't catch and began to walk away. Amanda felt herself being carried and then, suddenly, she found herself being laid on a very comfortable couch. Seconds later, a very soft blanket appeared over her body. Someone, probably Jill, tucked it around her carefully, and moved her head against the edge of the couch. Then, the same person put a pillow under Amanda's head and readjusted the blanket.

Amanda felt so comfortable she didn't mind that Snowflake wasn't there to protect her.

Then again, monsters probably didn't live in homes like these.

A/N: Another five reviews, please!


	3. Chapter 3

A few hours later, Amanda wake up, groggy. She looked around the room. The walls were painted light blue, and there were two soft looking, brown chairs to her left and her right. Across from her was a plain wooden table, decorated with a bowl of fruit. Across from that table was another couch that was easily three times the size of the chairs, but of the same color and made from the same material. Amanda looked at where she had been sitting, and discovered that it matched the couch in front of her. It was as soft as it looked, much softer than anything Amanda had ever sat in before. It felt the way she had always imagined clouds would feel.

Each visible wall had a painting in its center. Amanda had never seen paintings before, and looked at them in awe. The first painting was of a bowl of fruit, but did not resemble the one in front of her in the slightest. The one to her left was of a mountain, but there was water beneath it. Flowers were scattered all over the picture and Amanda thought if such a place existed, it had to be the most beautiful place in the world. The last painting was of a forest, and while it did not interest her as much as the second had, she still thought it was very pretty.

Amanda sat up in the couch and felt the blanket around her. Dark blue, very large, and incredibly soft, it was much nicer than what she had used at home.

She blinked, remembering what had happened. _He_ had locked her up and the nice woman—was her name Jill?—had taken her out of the closet and driven her to this house. Another man, whose name the small child could not remember, had not exactly been nasty, but he wasn't as nice as the woman.

Amanda huddled under the blanket, wanting to stay in the room, lest the man take her back to _him_.

Amanda didn't want to be locked up again. Or hit.

She heard voices in the background but couldn't make out what they were saying. They weren't yelling, which was good. Suddenly she heard footsteps walking across the hallway, and the nice woman entered the room. Amanda froze, too scared to pretend to be asleep.

"Did you sleep well, honey?" the woman asked her, sitting next to the girl. She began to stroke her hair, tentatively, as though Amanda was a wild animal and might bite her at any given moment.

Amanda nodded wordlessly.

"John and I have decided that when I go back to your father's house next week, to check on the termite situation, I'll bring the adoption papers for him to sign." She paused. "I'll also check and see if there's anything of yours we forgot." She kissed Amanda's forehead.

"What if he doesn't sign?" whispered the little girl.

Jill just smiled. "He will, or he'll get in trouble with the police. They won't like the way he was treating you, Amanda."

"What are police?"

Jill blanched. "They're people who make sure others are nice to each other," she replied after a moment's hesitation. "Your father wasn't nice to you."

"No," Amanda agreed. She looked up into Jill's blue eyes. "Where's Snowflake?"

"Your rabbit? She was awfully dirty, so I gave her a bath. Don't worry," she added, seeing Amanda's crestfallen face, "she's fine and will be ready in about ten minutes."

Amanda nodded, saying nothing. Suddenly, her stomach let out a loud noise, and her face paled again.

Jill laughed and looked at her watch. "Goodness, it's time for dinner." She lifted Amanda out of the "bed", taking the covers with her. "You must have been _really_ tired. John looked in on you about an hour ago and he said you were sound asleep."

"I'm a heavy sleeper," Amanda explained, cuddling against Jill's shoulders. Jill had her arms wrapped around the five year old, carrying her as though she were a baby. Amanda couldn't remember the last time she had been held like that. If ever.

Jill laughed as she walked towards the kitchen. "I was going to make hamburgers and French fries. Does that sound good to you? It's one of John's favorites."

Amanda had heard of French fries before—it was something her mother served in one of the restaurants, and people always complained that they hadn't been given enough of them—but had never seen them, let alone tasted them. Still, she wasn't about to say no to this nice woman. Amanda imagined that she would have eaten dirt if Jill set a plate of it in front of her.

Actually, Amanda remembered that she had eaten dirt once. She had tracked some in the house when her father locked her in the basement closet, and the remains on her shoes had been the only food she had gotten for at least a day.

Jill set Amanda down at the table, repositioning the blanket so that it fell over her shoulders. Then, she disappeared into another room and came back with a large stuffed rabbit that looked better than it had in ages.

"Snowflake!" Amanda cried, reaching for her bunny. When she touched it, she discovered that the rabbit was softer than she had ever remembered. "She's so pretty!"

John laughed and Jill kissed Amanda on her forehead before turning away to the oven.

"Dinner will be ready in five minutes," she promised, exchanging a wide smile with her husband.

A/N: Slightly short chapter, but I didn't want to have too much go on between Amanda and her new parents before the adoption was official. PLEASE read and review...five reviews are needed before I can start writing the next chapter! (I have a few other projects I'm working on, which I have more inspiration for, so the reviews will be what convinces me to update. Also, ideas for future chapters are welcome.)


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. Mostly it's because I wanted to wait until I saw Saw IV before posting anything, so that my story would remain consistent with the movies. Having just seen the movie earlier in the week, I feel that I can safely update without contradicting the movies (or at least, any more than the point of Amanda's arrival). Since the movie leaves a lot of the details up to interpretation, such as the period of Jill and John's marriage, I decided to do just that. Anyway…enjoy, and please leave feedback. The five review rule still applies!

Clarification stuff: As far as ages go, I'm using intuitive logic and facts from the movies. We know John died in Saw 3 at age fifty-two. I imagine Amanda, at this point, was around twenty-three, closer to twenty-four (intuitive logic). So John's 27 when she's born. We don't get Jill's age and based on appearances alone, I'll say that Jill is ten years younger than John. Which means (intuitive logic) they either married late or waited awhile before having kids. I'm going with the latter. Jill, then, is twenty-two years old when she finds Amanda (seventeen when Amanda was born). John is thirty-two. At this point, she and John have been married for four years, or since he was twenty-eight and she was eighteen. John died in the third movie at age fifty-two, which we'll say takes place in 2006. John was born May 4th, 1954. Jill was born March 3rd, 1965, and Amanda was born February 10th, 1983. (Confused? Good, so am I.)

The basics: The story begins in the spring of 1988. So, once again, Amanda's five, Jill is twenty-two (almost 23), and John is thirty-two.

Onto the story...

The one thing Jill's parents had asked when they found out their teenage daughter was engaged to someone ten years her senior was that they wait until their daughter had graduated from college before having children.

It was a reasonable request in everyone's mind, and one that all parties involved had planned on fulfilling. At age seventeen, Jill had finished high school a year ahead of time, and was planning on attending the state's university the following fall. John, of course, had been out of school for several years, and was now working as an engineer, but also spending time planning buildings which were, at some future point, supposed to be built for the purpose of housing low income families. John considered it social work; his in laws considered it charity. He made enough money at his current job to rent a decent sized apartment that was within ten minutes of Jill's college campus. The implied understanding was that Jill would live at home and attend classes until the wedding. She would continue to attend classes after the wedding, and graduate by the time she was twenty-one, but live with John in the apartment during that time. Jill's parents, who were upper middle class, had inspected the apartment closely before declaring it was suitable for their only daughter to live in, but strongly implied that John should move them into a larger house by the time she graduated. They would help with this, of course, as far as finances were concerned, but even then they wanted their daughter to start a career before she became a mother.

The plan had worked out fairly well until Amanda showed up. Jill had done well in college, majoring in nursing, and graduated just before her twenty-first birthday. John, obeying the ever increasing hints of his in laws, promptly ended the lease on the apartment and found a house within a half an hour of Jill's parents. The half hour, they both knew, was to prevent Jill's well intentioned but interfering parents from visiting whenever they felt the whim to do so, which was what had occurred in their first three years of marriage.

Despite their careful plans, housing rates went up unexpectedly the summer than John and Jill were supposed to move, and Jill took on a temporary job as an exterminator to provide the two with extra income. The mortgage on the house was higher than anticipated, and with the house came unexpected problems such as damaged pipes and faulty heating and air conditioning. Although the couple was assured that these problems, once fixed, would cease to bother them in the future, both John and Jill felt fortunate for the extra couple hundred that Jill brought in each week.

What John didn't expect was Jill bringing home a child.

Even after –or perhaps especially after—four years of marriage, John was still madly in love with his wife. He knew there was talk when they first started dating, especially from the nosy neighbors. The talk escalated as the wedding approached, and even Art had asked John if he _really_ knew what he was getting into, if he _really_ wanted to go through with it. He answered that he had, nearly losing his temper at his lifelong friend.

John _never_ lost his patience with anyone, which had a lot to do with his ability to accept Jill's parental interference up until they had moved far enough away so that they would have to drive to get there. They still visited and called, but not as compulsively.

John was glad.

They had adopted a cat once. Jill had found it outside one of the college buildings, and despite putting up signs advertising a lost cat, no one turned up to claim it. They decided to keep it, at least for awhile, but neither realized how difficult it would be. The cat may have been a stray all its life because it did not respond to any commands. It tore up several papers John had been working on for work. Twice, it even bit him. Sometimes, it woke them up in the middle of the night, howling. Despite borrowing several library books on cats (one of which the cat tore up), no answer seemed available. They had to let the cat go.

A child, as John had pointed out, was a lot more responsibility than a cat.

What had Jill been thinking when she took Amanda away from her family? He believed his wife when she said that her father had been abusive (who locks a child in a basement closet?), but there were people who dealt with that. Jill should have reported the Young family to the police, no matter how sad the daughter looked.

Jill was emotional. She always had been. She'd cry at movies, and if someone criticized her she'd dwell on it for days. She was very smart, but John often failed to figure out her thought process, as was now. Didn't she see that they could not easily afford a child? Granted, at least Amanda wasn't a baby with diapers and other expenses, but knowing Jill, she'd insist on taking the girl shopping, redoing the guest room…

And what if Amanda's parents demanded her back after all of that? Jill would be heartbroken, probably enough so that she'd want to have kids even though they'd be able to afford it even less later, after Amanda's expenses.

As John watched Jill with the child, he sincerely hoped that everything would work out for the best.

Whenever John had the time, he helped Jill find and file the necessary paperwork, and waited when Jill returned to Amanda's former house for the signatures. They were on the papers when Jill arrived, clear as anything. After all the necessary steps had been taken, John, though surprised at first that Amanda's mother and father hadn't put up a fight, until he heard about the Young family financial problems, which made theirs pale in comparison, he allowed himself to feel happy about the inclusion of Amanda. Soon after that, Jill's family's lawyer told them that they were officially Amanda's guardians, by state law. Even if Amanda's parents wanted her back, it would be nearly impossible at this point.

Amanda was, at first, very shy around her adopted father, but it was easy for him to see that she had a very sweet personality. He suspected that she might even be encouraged to act mischievous, even though she never disobeyed John or Jill directly. The girl, John realized, was opinionated, but quietly so. He had seen this the first day when Amanda had demanded her rabbit in order to take a nap.

John began to bring home toys from his workshop, tinkering with them for a few hours on weekends, and watched as Amanda grew transfixed by the process. She'd watch, wordlessly, as he added or removed extra parts, not touching but clearly wanting to. John would let her watch for a few minutes, then pull her into his lap and explain what he was doing. He was surprised at how light she was. Her birth parents clearly hadn't fed her. In fact, as John looked at her, he saw that even though Amanda was nearly six, she didn't look half her age. She was so tiny, and didn't know as many words as he thought a six year old would know. She wasn't disabled, he knew, but Amanda was behind in more ways than one. Watching her sleep with her head draped across his left arm, he was glad he and Jill had adopted her.

When Jill began to talk about getting Amanda new clothes and fixing up the room she was staying in so that it fit the girl's tastes more, John did not object.

(More to come…please review! Know this was kind of a dry chapter but felt that one was needed to give John's perspective on the whole thing.)


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